


Death in the Love Shack

by rose-live (rose_live)



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Carlton Lassiter is autistic, Case Fic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pining, Shassie, Shawn Spencer has ADHD, Slow Burn, bi shawn spencer, but not perpetrated by the main characters so don't worry, juliet o'hara is a lesbian in this one, my fic my rules, only one bed trope, pan carlton lassiter, well; if you count a week as a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_live/pseuds/rose-live
Summary: “Oh no,” Shawn gasped, “Not Lassie.”Shawn is asked by Chief Vick to go undercover and psychically investigate a string of deaths at various couple's retreats. Only thing is, Lassiter is the only person available to go undercover with Shawn. Will the two be able to cooperate and solve the crime? Or will there be another death?Currently updating once a week.
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter & Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	1. Fake Dating 101

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever psych fanfic. I'm currently watching the show for the first time, and am on season 3 episode 11 (at the time of this posting), so assume the fic takes place before that episode. Feedback would be appreciated!

“The Chief has a new case for us,” Shawn was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. It had been a dry spell as far as the SBPD had been concerned, and the duo hadn’t received a case from them in nearly a month. Psych had also hit a bit of a dry spell, which meant that they were running low on cash. The only reason that they were able to afford the upkeep and rent on the building was due to Gus’s boring “actual” job as he put it. Shawn wondered what the case would be. Diamond thief? Missing senator’s hot daughter? Missing senator’s hot son? It didn’t really matter, he was just excited that the Chief hadn’t forgotten about them.

“Well, tell me, what did she say?” Gus answered him. He was almost as excited as Shawn. While he did love his job, Psych was something new and interesting Gus was involved in. Though, he didn’t love the fact that Psych made him miss so much of his actual job. He had gotten the ultimatum from his boss: stop missing so many days, or be fired. Despite what Shawn thought, Psych, and both of their livelihoods, would not exist without his main job. 

“She wants us to come into the office as soon as possible,” Shawn beamed, “It’s about time that she called us back in!”

\---

“No, absolutely not,” Gus said sternly, “I can not miss another whole week of work, Shawn! My boss is already on me about missing so much. If I take off this time I’ll be fired.” Shawn pouted at his friend. He asked Chief Vick if they could step outside for a moment. She seemed annoyed but allowed them to.

The department was busy; cops rushing around to finish cases, interrogating suspects, and the like. Summer in Santa Barbara always had an influx of crime, which is possibly why the Psych duo was called back in.

“C’mon, Gus. This is a great opportunity for us. Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to go on one of these retreats, that they were romantic?” He pleaded with his friend. Knowing his track record, Shawn bet that he could get Gus to budge within ten minutes. 

“Yes, they’re romantic if I was going with a partner. Not with you, Shawn. No amount of pouting or puppy eyes are going to work this time. If I don’t have my job how am I supposed to support you and your strange investments?”

“Hey, the computers for cats was an amazing idea, you have to see that. How was I supposed to know that they would take all the money and run?” Gus sighed.

“Shawn, I’m not going to go on the retreat with you. Job or otherwise. I’m sure the Chief has somebody else you can go undercover with.”  _ Damn _ , Shawn thought,  _ guess my bet was wrong. _

“Fine, but you’re going to be missing out,” Shawn said, “Be a party pooper.” Gus rolled his eyes, and went to sit down on the bench near the doors as Shawn went to go pester Juliet. She seemed engrossed in her work at her desk, typing up some sort of report on the computer. She was wearing something strange; it looked like somebody mixed a cheerleader with a haunted house.

“Juliet, Julie, Jewley-Jules, how about you and I go to a couples retreat?” Shawn tapped on Juliet’s shoulder, startling her.

“I’m going to pretend you weren’t actually being serious with that question, Shawn,” she looked up from her computer screen, “besides, even if I remotely wanted to do anything couple-y with you -- which I  _ don’t _ \-- I’m busy. I can’t just leave on a whim.”

“Man, why is everyone so boring!” Shawn dramatically threw his hands in the air, “All talking about “real” jobs like...like responsible adults!” 

“Shawn, if you can’t tell, I’m working on a case at the moment.”

“Oh, that must explain why you look like Harley Quinn threw up on you.” Shawn said, gesturing to her outfit. Juliet rolled her eyes.

“Shawn, as much as I would love to entertain you right now, I need to get back to work.” She turned back to her computer, typing and tapping a pencil on the desk. She was clearly focused on her work, so Shawn gave up. He didn’t have anybody else to ask. He walked glumly back to the Chief’s office. When he slid open the door, Lassiter was there turning in the report from his last case.

“Ah, Mr. Spencer. Have you and Guster come to an agreement?” 

“Alas, Gus can’t be swayed. I’m sorry.” Shawn draped himself over a chair, “He has broken my heart again, that cruel, cruel man!”

“That’s fine, you don’t need to go undercover with him. I found you another partner.” She looked up at Lassiter. Lassiter didn’t seem to notice what was going on. He was just waiting for the Chief to dismiss him so that he could get back to his other reports and possibly get a new case before leaving today. Shawn, on the other hand, being the brilliant ‘psychic’ detective that he was, put it together very fast.

“Oh no,” Shawn gasped, “Not  _ Lassie _ .”

“Not me for what?” Lassiter was confused. All he knew is that the Chief asked him to come turn in his report personally.

“You’ll join Mr. Spencer undercover on the couple’s retreat case,” she slid the manila envelope that housed the case file across the desk towards the two men, “the pair of you can review the case file, and then get ready. You two will be posing as a married couple. Your cover stories will be finished later today and given to you tomorrow. The check in is in two days at 9 am.”

“Chief, you can’t do this. I can’t pretend to be Spencer’s husband, even for the sake of a case,” Lassiter was practically pleading with the Chief. He couldn’t stand the fake psychic most of the time, and pretending to be his husband for a week would kill him. Well, maybe not kill him, but there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t shoot Shawn by the end of the week.

“You can and you will Detective Lassiter, that’s final. You’re the only one that I can trust that isn’t already on a case, and you can keep Mr. Spencer in line. If this goes well, you won’t even be required to be there for the whole week. You two will get along, and play your parts. If you blow this there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Chief.” Both men spoke, not looking at each other. This was going to be one long week.


	2. Faking Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a few days early because I have a lot of school work to do. Hope everyone enjoys! Constructive criticism is appreciated. Thank you to my beta and friend, who does not have an ao3 account. It's her interest in this story that encourages me to keep going.
> 
> Also, I have 0 clue how couples retreats work, nor where things are so apologies for that.

Gus picked up Shawn from his apartment. Shawn had wanted to take his motorcycle in, but he wasn’t leaving it parked at the station for a week, nor did he have room for his luggage if he rode in. Speaking of luggage, he was currently shooting daggers at the offending suitcase and small carry on sized bag. The Chief had told them yesterday to pack for an outdoor retreat, whatever that meant exactly. So, Shawn packed about a week's worth of clothes, pajamas, toiletries, swim shoes, and at least a week's worth of red vines. If he was going to be stuck in some wilderness for a week, he wasn’t going to leave his luxuries behind.

“Is this it?” Gus asked, putting the suitcase into his trunk.  
“Yeah, was told not to overpack,” Shawn huffed. When he had gone to pick up his cover story and be told more about the case yesterday, the Chief had warned him to not take a lot of things with him. Only the necessities. According to her, a blender to make smoothies wasn’t considered a necessity. 

Shawn Spencer was now Isaac Vance, a 33 year old history professor. He was married to William Vance, 38, prosecutor. The two of them had been married for four years, lived outside of Alameda, and had a chocolate lab named Julia. Shawn chuckled when he read the last part. It was funny that their fake dog for their fake lives was named after Juliet. 

Shawn reviewed the case on the way to the police station. Bodies popped up at or near couples retreats, always of a couple that had attended the retreat. The first two were ruled an accident due to the fact that the only connection was that the crime occurred at a couples retreat. Different profiles for the victims, different causes of death for each one, different days that they occurred. After the third couple popped up, the surrounding police departments got involved. Technically, the case wasn’t in Santa Barbara’s jurisdiction, but it seemed that Shawn’s psychic-ness had spread further than he thought, so the San Francisco police department had asked for Shawn and another cop to go undercover with him to figure out what had happened.

The first set of victims were a couple in their mid-30s, Eileen and Jackson Bouchot. They were both middle class with decent white collar jobs. No kids. Both of them died in a boating accident on the man-made lake at the retreat site. It was originally ruled an accident, something about an issue with the boat motor.

Second victims, Aleksander and Fenya Yahantov. Fenya was born in the United States, but Aleksander had immigrated to go to medical school. Both were doctors, upper-class, with two children. Both were in their mid-40s, and had died after a heavy bookshelf fell on the pair. 

Third set of victims, Maddie Henshaw and Isabella Amaya. Unmarried but living together, mid-20s. No kids. Maddie was going to inherit a family owned mom and pop shop that her parents owned and Isabella was going to school full-time. Maddie was electrocuted by a faulty wire, and Isabella died in the incurring fire that had happened when the wiring had ignited the carpet of their room. Luckily, she had died from smoke inhalation in her sleep rather than actually dying from burns.

Shawn was perplexed. None of the victims had anything in common. Or at least, not enough to have a good motive. Both the first and third couple had no children, but the second couple did have children. The first and second couples were middle-to-upper class, but the third couple was lower class. Besides that they were all at this retreat, Shawn had nothing to go on. He guessed he would really have to exert his “psychic” prowess if he wanted to solve this case before the next bodies dropped.

\---

Shawn and Gus pulled into the police station way too soon in Shawn’s opinion. Gus unloaded the trunk as Shawn went into the station to meet up with Lassiter. It wasn’t hard to spot the man; he was dressed in his usual suit. Guess prosecutors dressed a lot like head detectives. Shawn, on the other hand, had to get some new clothes for this. He suspected that history professors dressed a lot more “posh” than what his usual wardrobe would be. Thus, Shawn was currently wearing an ironed! long sleeve button up shirt and a soft brown cardigan. His pants were a dark brown colored, and pressed as well. His shoes for once were shined and of course brown. 

Shawn felt like a giant teddy bear, and he hated it. To make it even worse, he was wearing a tie. While struggling to get it knotted this morning, Shawn almost considered calling the Chief and telling her that it wasn’t worth it. Alas, the call of money was too alluring.

“Lassie!” Shawn called out to the man. He was at his desk, collecting what Shawn could only assume was important notes and police stuff, and didn’t bother to look up when Shawn approached. “Or should I say William now? You know, get into character before we reach the big vacation destination, sweetums.”

Oh, Lassiter paid attention to Shawn then, but just so he could try to kill the man with his stare. “You will not call me sweetums, honey, darling, babe, or anything of the sort, Spencer. I may have to pretend to be married to you for a week, but if you try any funny business I will not hesitate to end your ability to _have_ any funny business. Is that clear?”  
“Crystal,” Shawn gulped. He didn’t doubt that Lassiter would shoot little Shawn if it would stop him from getting up to his usual antics. Lassiter finished collecting his notes and started to the door not waiting for Shawn. 

Shawn kept up the pace, following the brooding detective to a car that was loaned to him for the trip. Some discrete, dark blue model that Shawn really didn’t care to know about. It was just a normal car. Gus had followed Shawn over, giving him the luggage before patting him on the shoulder and leaving him to the wolves.

“This is going to be  _ fantastic _ ,” Shawn muttered under his breath, as he entered the passenger seat and prepared for the ride.


	3. 20 Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip and planning time. 
> 
> Beta'd. Any secondary mistakes are my own.

The pair was silent for the first twenty minutes of the trip. One small thing that Shawn was grateful for was that it was only about two hours from Santa Barbara to the campsite, which was outside of Santa Clarita. That gave them enough time to iron out some of the wrinkles with their cover, but not enough time to be at each other’s throats. At the moment, Shawn was looking out the passenger window at the sunrise. It was only 6:40 in the morning, way too early for him to be up. Lassiter said they were going to leave at 6:15 so they wouldn’t run into traffic.

After twenty minutes though, Shawn was getting antsy with the silence. He reached to plug his phone into the aux cord and blast some of his road trip playlist, but Lassiter slapped his hand away. “You aren’t messing with my radio, Spencer.”

Shawn pouted, sitting back in his seat. He couldn’t do any more silence. He began to tap the edge of his phone against the window in rhythmic  _ tap, tap, taps _ . This went on for a few minutes until Lassiter snapped. “If you don’t stop that incessant tapping, I will pull this car over and kick you out.” 

“No you won’t,” Shawn stuck his tongue out at the older man. Maybe it was childish, but he could tell that it was an empty threat. Lassiter needed him for this case as much as he didn’t want to. “Can we just turn on some music, or talk about the case, or something? The silence is messing with my psychic abilities.” In other words, Shawn was just extremely bored and jittery. 

“Fine. I suppose we should discuss our plan.” Lassiter sighed, relenting and turning the radio onto a soft hum of what could only be described as elevator music. Shawn’s face wrinkled at the offending sound. So boring. He supposed that it was just for background noise so Shawn didn’t complain. 

“Okay, first question  _ William,  _ how did the two of us meet?” Shawn teased Lassiter. Despite what the detective thought, Shawn didn’t dislike or hate him. Sure, he liked pushing his buttons, but he admired him some as well. He was smart, good at his job. What Shawn’s father wanted him to be, essentially. He was almost certain that the detective disliked him, though.

“We met on a case,” Lassiter said, throwing out the first thing that popped into his mind, “You were there as a key witness of the defense, and I cross-examined you. We met for coffee when the trial was over, and it went from there. We dated for two years before getting engaged.”

Shawn gave a little aww. “How sweet. Such a romantic at heart.”  
“Be quiet, _Issac_.” Lassiter said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“What’s your favorite color?” Shawn piped up after another couple of minutes.  
“Grey. I’m unsure of what that has to do with the case, though,” Lassiter replied. Shawn smiled.

“Lassie, we’ve been fake married for four years. We would probably know each other’s favorite colors by now. Mine’s light green, if you were wondering. Though, I am partial to a nice purple if the mood is right.” They talked about some more basic facts before the big question came up.

“How much PDA are you okay with? We need to be convincing but I don’t want to weird you out.” Lassiter thought Shawn was being oddly considerate with that. He was expecting to have to just deal with a barrage of touching from the fake psychic for a week.

“I guess holding hands, hugging, and the like. I don’t really like kissing in public, and I’m not sharing a bed with you. I’m not even really a fan of PDA with my actual partners, so keep it to the minimum needed, please.” Shawn nodded. That was something good to know. The two discussed some more trivial things that would help their stories, throwing bits of the truth in there as well. After all, the best lies always have a kernel of truth to them.

Both of the men were surprised how easily the time passed. Before they knew it, they were pulling up to the campsite on the map.  _ Glacier Cove Cabins. _

If this were any other situation, Shawn would be certain that this would be amazing. There was a large cabin, dark oak wood with towering glass windows showing off a plush looking living room. A lake to the back of the cabin, barely visible from the parking lot. It looked like crystal clear water. Now, Shawn wasn’t the outdoorsy type, but he could appreciate a good view as much as the next person.

Lassiter, though, he looked on in wonder. Shawn had figured that Lassiter was the type to like all things outdoors, and he was not mistaken here. Lassiter pulled the car into a spot and opened the door. He got out of the car and took a moment to take in the fresh air and surroundings. Shawn found Lassiter’s display of joy…oddly endearing. Not that he would ever say that out loud, though. 

Shawn went around to the trunk, grabbing his and Lassiter’s bags. Shawn’s bag was a light brown color with festive palm trees and pineapples on it. Lassiter’s bag was a boring black with no design on it. Of course the detective had to be as non-descript and boring in every situation, even in his choice of bags.

“I’m going to hold your hand now,” Shawn whispered to Lassiter, when he walked over to him. He laced their fingers together after handing Lassiter his bag. The man stiffened for a moment, before relaxing and loosely holding Shawn’s hand. The pair walked to the front of the building, where other couples were checking in. After waiting in line for about ten minutes, they finally made it up to the reception desk.

“Hello! Last name please,” the man working the desk smiled at them. He was older, around 60, and Shawn noticed that he was wearing the cabin’s standard dark blue polo. 

“Vance,” Lassiter answered, “William and Isaac.”

The man typed on the computer for a few seconds, pulling up their pictures. “Ah, here you are. Mr. and Mr. Vance, you’ll be staying in room 301. Cleaning staff will be by daily at around 9:30am, and breakfast starts at 7am. Activity schedules are posted in your room, and out in the lobby. Enjoy your stay at  _ Glacier Cove Cabins _ .”

“Oh, we will,” Shawn smiled back at the man, taking the room key that he handed over to them.

\---

Room 301 was on an interior hallway, with no window to the outside of the cabin. Shawn didn’t mind that much, though. It was less chance for people to be able to just peak in. Lassiter, on the other hand, seemed on edge. When Shawn asked he just said “there’s only one exit to this room, Spencer.”

Shawn had noticed that there was only one exit, he was observant, after all. “It’s fine Lassiface, don’t be so weird.” The bedroom was soft and airy. Silver walls, a plush bed with soft looking silver and blue comforter. There was a nice looking reclining chair in the corner, and a strong looking oak desk pushed against one wall with a comfortable desk chair. 

Another issue, only one bed. Granted, they had both expected this since it was a  _ couple’s _ retreat, not let’s say, an employee retreat. It was still awkward. 

“I can take the recliner,” Shawn offered. He had slept in worse situations before, and honestly it didn’t seem like it would be that bad.

“Don’t worry about it Spencer, I’ll sleep there,” Lassiter insisted, “As much as I would rather have the bed, I’m most likely going to be up later than you working on the case.” Shawn relented at that. He thought Lassiter was being nice, but in a weird backhanded way by implying that he was the one who was going to be doing actual work.  _ Classic Lassie, _ Shawn thought,  _ can’t let anybody know that under his gruff exterior, he’s actually a huge softy. Can’t fool me Lassy face. _

Shawn put his suitcase down on the bed, unzipping the case and opening it up. Lassiter scrunched up his face at that, “Spencer, can you not mess up the sheets? You rolled your suitcase out in the dirt.”

“You're not the one sleeping on the bed, so you don’t get a say in it.” Shawn teased him. Lassiter sighed, going to unpack his own bag. The room was nice enough to provide a small closet. It was large enough to fit both of the men’s outfits. Shawn was a bit jealous of the older man. Lassiter was allowed to dress similarly to what he would on a normal day-to-day basis. It was a bit toned down, however. Nice button up shirts, slacks, a few dressier looking pairs of pleated shorts, dress shoes. 

Why did he get to dress like normal while Shawn had to be a glorified Catholic school boy? Sweater vests, nice shirts, slacks, pressed pants, dress shoes and  _ ties _ were Shawn’s future for the next week and he dreaded it. Surely not all history professors dressed like this, right? 

Shawn was hanging up his clothes when Lassiter looked over at him, “Is that all you packed, Spencer? This is an outdoor retreat, so many nice clothes are going to get ruined if you only dress like that.” Lassiter gestured to his few more “outdoors” outfits that he had brought for the week.

Shawn felt the tips of his ears turn red. In his attempt to pack lighter, he hadn’t really brought any clothes for adventuring outdoors. Even though it was in a cabin, he was hoping to avoid most outdoor related activities that would require different clothes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lassie, of course I brought other clothes. My psychic senses told me to.” He pointed to the somewhat less dressy shorts and tops. Those would have to do.

Lassiter just scoffed at him. “Anyway, after you’re done unpacking, we should pick out activities for the week.”

Shawn went over to where Lassiter was at the desk, and the two men looked at the brochure. There were drawing classes, outdoor hikes (something Shawn was  _ not _ interested in doing), swimming, kayaking, archery, couples bonding activities (whatever that entailed), and board games in the lounge. Some of these activities seemed better for scouting out the area than others did. Lassiter pulled out a notepad and pen, ready to start a list. 

“Drawing classes could be useful,” Lassiter offered, “It would give us a chance to canvas the other couples here.” 

“That sounds good. I refuse to go hiking though,” Shawn said.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t prepare,” Lassiter sighed, “But fine, we won’t hike. It would be a good chance to look around the cabin, though.” The pair went through the rest of the activities for the week. There were a few classes besides the drawing ones offered on certain days. Shawn pointed to one offered on the third day, wiggling his eyebrows at Lassiter who in turn scowled.

“I’m not attending a ballroom dancing class with you.” 

“Party pooper.” Shawn shot back light-heartedly. In reality, he hadn’t wanted to actually do the class. He doubted Lassiter would have agreed in the first place. The pair went over the list again after they put down their classes/activities, narrowing them down and checking for schedule conflicts. Once that was done, it was nearly lunch time.

“What do you say to some good old-fashioned sleuthing, Lassie?” Shawn grinned at the man, “It’s time for lunch.” Lassiter agreed, gathering and putting away the list.

“Let’s go,” said Lassiter. The pair got up, leaving the hotel room and starting the way down the hallway and to the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, talks of consent. I've noticed that a lot of fake dating fics don't include these, so, I decided to add one of my own. I personally know how i don't like to be randomly touched, and I would imagine that Lassiter would be the same way.


	4. Lunch and Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn and Lassiter do some research.
> 
> Beta'd, any mistakes are my own.

Lunch is boring, in Shawn’s opinion. Of course, he gets a lot of unnecessary information from the other attendees of the retreat, but none of it is glaringly related to the case. The Morrison’s are expecting another child, though it’s too early for Mrs. Morrison to be showing. The disgusted look on her face when she smelt the roast beef from the sandwiches was enough indication without her popping a Tylenol at her forming headache. The Justin's were going to invite the Sasani’s to their room later that night for a swingers thing. The glances that they snuck at each other and the passing of room keys should have been obvious to anybody paying a modicum of attention. Mrs. Lotchpick was cheating on Mr. Lotchpick with a very passionate lover who she did not bring on the trip. Hickeys, older but not well hidden, and the way that the two seemed to sit a few more inches than necessary away from each other.

So, it was boring. Lassiter also seemed bored. Currently, he was chatting up a couple who Shawn didn’t bother to catch the names of. They were a bit younger, probably mid-twenties. The wife worked some sort of office job or a job that required a lot of typing -- she would move her wrist a certain way and wince slightly. The husband was a mechanic. The shirt that he was wearing had a stain that looked like motor oil. Shawn tuned them out, opting to grab another potato chip and eat that instead.

“So, Isaac, what do you think?” The lady turned to him, smiling wide. Shawn’s brain faltered for a moment, unsure of what they were talking about. Damn, this is why he always needed to pay attention. Shawn was going to make up some bullshit response, when Lassiter swooped in and saved him.

“You’ll have to forgive my husband, finals week just ended a few days ago and he spent the past few nights almost up every night grading them. This retreat couldn’t have come at a better time,” Lassiter smiled, actually _smiled_ and not that tight lipped ‘social-niceties-are-expected’ smile that he usually did at him. Shawn’s cheeks heated up a bit in his embarrassment.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Shawn quickly said. He smiled at the woman, “Lots of essay questions. I’ll have to change that next semester unless I want to melt my brain with 18 year olds not knowing basic facts about history.”

She nodded, making a small sound of agreement. “I know how you feel, having to edit all day is a bit mind numbing.” So, she edited something. Newspapers, books, articles, it really didn’t matter. “I was talking to William about what activities we should do. Adam and I aren’t really the crafty types, so we’re avoiding any sort of art related activities. Also, after the boating incident here, I don’t think I want to risk anything.”

Shawn perked up at that. Did this woman know about the previous murder? It hadn’t been that popular of a topic when it was originally deemed an accident. One thing about the case that baffled the police was that each murder took place at a different location. They had a suspicion that the next one would be a repeat at this retreat, since the murders seemed to follow a pattern: once every season. This was the only couples retreat happening in this area at the time, so the perpetrator was most likely going to hit here if they were right about the pattern. 

“The boating accident?” Shawn feigned not knowing about it. 

“Oh, you don’t know? My company covered the accident when it first happened. About a year ago, a couple died in a boating accident on the lake here. It was tragic.” Adam took his wife’s hand. Shawn filed the information away for later. He was about to ask her another question about what she knew when he was interrupted. 

“Barbara here works as an editor for the Sunset Tribune, an online newspaper company that covers a lot of different things, but mostly crime, accidents, and oddly enough, romance,” Adam added, “She was just promoted to chief editor!” he beamed at his wife. Shawn thought that they looked like a cute couple. He dropped the questioning for now, not figuring out a way to work it back into conversation. The couples chatted for a bit, before Adam turned to Lassiter.

“How rude, we forgot to ask what you did for work, William.” 

“Oh, I’m a prosecuting attorney with a small private firm, you probably wouldn't’ have heard of it.” Lassiter said, adding on the last part. It was probably better if they didn’t try to question his background so much. After all, they were only given two days to prepare.

“That’s so cool,” Adam grinned at him, “Always wanted to go to law school.”

The conversation ended abruptly, when a woman stepped up to the podium at the front of the room. She had neatly styled brown curls, framing a slim face with intense dark brown eyes. She gave off an air of authority, but the authority of a principle instead of the authority that a cop would give off. She was wearing a skirt pants suit, and kitten heels. It didn’t take a psychic to realize that this was the head of the retreat, a woman named Samantha Glory. Shawn thought that sounded like a made up name, but honestly who was he to judge on names, with a fake name like Isaac Vance.

Samantha loudly cleared her throat, and waited for the hall to turn her way. “Welcome couples! We’re glad to have you at the retreat for this week. Normally, you would expect some sort of stuffy speech about the retreat and the amenities offered, but nobody wants to listen to all that after enjoying a nice meal. So, I’ll keep it brief. 

Here at  _ Glacier Cove Cabins _ your comfort and safety is our top priority. As you have noticed, your rooms have been fitted with ample comfort of yourself and your partner in mind. Activities are scheduled for ease of access, and accommodations are provided for those who need them.

Speaking of activities, Melissa Williams is teaching a low-impact yoga class this afternoon at 4pm. Those who wish to attend can sign up in the lobby. But for now, I’ll wrap this up and let everyone enjoy the rest of their days. Reminder, dinner starts at 6:30pm and is held until 8:30pm.” With that, Samantha stepped away from the podium. Their plates were cleared by the staff, and the undercover pair gave each other a look. Free day meant more time to sleuth, which was just what they were going to do.

\---

Sleuthing proved to be pretty much useless. Shawn wanted to go about like he usually does, disregarding and breaking multiple laws, but Lassiter insisted that they go by the boring legal way. So, that resulted in a lot of sitting around and chatting to people without raising suspicion. After all, they didn’t want the people at the retreat to know that they were investigating another possible murder.

The second that Shawn got the chance, he snuck away from Lassiter to do some of his own “investigative” work. In other words, to glean enough information to have a ‘psychic’ revelation and catch the killer. Shawn wanted to finish this as soon as possible so he could go back to Santa Barbara and avoid having to spend more time with Lassiter. He may not hate the man, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit around with a ticked off and antsy Lassiter for a week.

So, Shawn was standing in the hallway near the records room, hoping to learn the pattern of security. He spotted a camera at the far end of the hallway, but he could tell from the angle that it was faced that if he stood near the plant on the adjacent side of the hall it would obstruct the view. He doubted it was high tech, either. Probably just there to deter theft. Shawn pulled out his phone, pretending to respond to a few emails using the cabin wi-fi. 

Shawn watched the security guard leave the room at 1:15pm. He returned exactly seven minutes later. He concentrated and that’s when he got the clue he was looking for. Shawn could smell the lingering cigarette smoke on the guard's clothing. That was what he needed. If the guard was taking smoke breaks, that means that he would be away from the room long enough for Shawn to sneak in, and take a quick glance records of previous applicants to the retreat. Shawn wondered if it was a previous attendant instead of an applicant, but it seemed a bit far fetched. The police would have noticed a repeat attendant at the retreats. Still, it couldn't hurt to check.

Shawn wanted to rush back to Lassiter and psychically divine what he had learned, but he had no proof besides a hunch, and it was too early into the retreat for Lassiter to be pissed at him for wasting his time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have 0 clue how couple retreats work as I am a 19 year old, single, poor college student haha. Kind of just winging it here, so any critiques, especially from those who have actually been to couples retreats, is appreciated.


End file.
